Charlie Bone: Next
by kukumalu01
Summary: Murders are happening at endowed schools, and now the killer is turning to Bloor's. Charlie suspects its one of the endowed; but will he be able to truly find out before he and his friends become the next targets? Ignores Book 8 !STORY ABANDONED!
1. Pianissimo

No copyright infringement intended in the story. Disclaimer: All Charlie Bone characters and settings belong to Jenny Nimmo.

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* * *

**Chapter One: Pianissimo**

**_Pianissimo - Soft, seeping through people's souls quietly_**

* * *

A quick rap on the oak doors startled Dr. Bloor. He glanced at the wall clock behind him; it was half past three in the morning. He frowned – who the hell would visit him unannounced at this hour?

"Come in," Dr. Bloor spoke, in his quiet sinister voice. It rang of power and danger. The door opened slowly, and the most unexpected visitor stepped into the room quietly, as if he was weightless.

The person was small – hardly taller than five foot. He was wearing a black cloak with a hood, which left his face in shadows. Dr. Bloor could see from the slender hand still on the doorknob that it was pale white in an unhealthy pallor.

"Manfred Bloor sent me here," said the hoarse voice. It sounded like the person was still recovering from a particularly bad sore throat.

"Manfred?" Dr. Bloor said, getting up from his study. "Who are you?"

The hood slipped back. Dr. Bloor was not a man easily frightened, but he found himself gasping.

"I'm supposed to stay here, sir," the person continued in a flat voice. It was not commanding; if anything, it sounded confused, repeating facts as if to have a hold on what's going on. "Manfred said that."

"Yes," Dr. Bloor said, steadying himself on his study, understanding. "Yes."

* * *

"CHARLIE BONE!" shouted an irate grandmother, slamming her door behind her. The echo vibrated around the small house, waking up its occupants.

A boy with messy brown hair woke up groggily. He turned around in his bed and caught a glimpse of the neon green numbers on his digital alarm clock. "Seven o'clock."

His eyes widened immediately.

Before he had time to react, his grandmother opened his door. It slammed against his set of drawers, and his photo frame fell onto the ground with a smash.

"Charlie," said Grandma Bone furiously. "You have exactly half an hour to get dressed, pack your bag and straighten your hair!"

She glanced around the messy bedroom. Books were strewn all over the floor. She opened her mouth to say something – and saw his blue music cape hung on his window so that it was billowing in the wind like a makeshift curtain. Before shock could register on her face, Charlie hastily tugged his cape down.

"Thanks, Grandma," he said, and closed the door quickly before she could rant. Grandma Bone practically worshipped school. Seeing his uniform tossed around callously would most likely ground him to the next century.

"Hurry up, Charlie," called Maisie, Charlie's maternal grandmother. His friends often called her 'The Nice Grandmother'. "Your bacon and eggs are getting cold."

"BREAKFAST?" Grandma Bone snorted. She was not yelling exactly – but her voice carried through all the same. "He doesn't deserve breakfast, that ungrateful law-breaking school-"

The door pushed open and Charlie, dressed in his school uniform with his bag slung around one shoulder, hurried by the corridor. "Thanks, Maisie!" he called.

Grandma Bone sniffed again as she watched her grandson run down the stairs. "Ignore me then," she sniffed, "no one appreciates me around here."

"Get a grip, Grizelda," snapped another voice from the bedroom above. "Now _kindly_ let me get some sleep!"

Charlie, down at the dining table, snickered. Maisie caught his eye and smiled. "Paton – 1; Grandma Bone – 0" remarked Maisie. "Now come here and see if she stops me from hugging my 15-year-old grandson."

He squirmed uncomfortably under her grasp. "I'm just one year older."

Maisie let him go. "One day, one year, same idea," Maisie said cheerfully. "If I had my way, you wouldn't be going to school at all."

"It's Bloor's."

"And so it is." There was nothing more to say. Nobody skipped school at Bloor's.

A loud honking sound from down the road had Charlie shooting up from his seat. With toast in his mouth, he waved goodbye at his grandmother and went to his bus.

"Hey Charlie," said a cheerful voice, "Happy Birthday!"

"Hey Fidelio," answered Charlie, always glad to see his friend. "Thanks."

"Going to keep your head down this year, I suppose?" Fidelio asked, grinning, "No more ruined castles? No time twister, no invisible boa, no mirror, no ancestors to help etc etc?"

"You know me Fidelio," Charlie said seriously, "I'm never that type of guy."

"Sure you're not," Fidelio answered good-naturedly, and the bus moved on with the sound of boys' laughter.

* * *

"Charlie!" shouted Olivia, running towards him as soon as her bus rolled to a stop. A black-haired boy with spots turned to her. "Sorry Charlie," she told the boy over her shoulder, not stopping, "I mean CHARLIE BONE!"

Charlie and Fidelio turned around. A tall girl with a stream of jet black hair skidded to a halt in front of them. She grinned at them. Olivia Vertigo was a student in the Drama department at Bloors'. She looked like a perfect model student, until one's eye went down to her shoes. Killer boots. Leather. Five inch heels.

"You ran in that?" Fidelio exclaimed in disbelief.

"It just takes practice," Olivia said seriously. "Anyway, Happy Birthday Charlie! I got you this." She threw something small at him.

Charlie's arms flailed and the present landed at his feet. Olivia rolled her eyes. "Honestly Charlie," she said, "have at least one cool moment in your life?"

"I prefer being unique," Charlie replied, picking up the object. He turned it around in his palm. It looked like an Ipod.

"It looks expensive."

"Actually it was free!" Olivia admitted happily.

"Wow, thanks for cracking open the piggy bank for me, Liv."

"No, wait-" Olivia said, looking over her shoulder. A man with stringy black hair was advancing at them, his black eyes focused on Charlie suspiciously. "I got it from my dad's set. It was a spy movie and he got real government agents to design it for him."

"What does it do?" said Charlie in interest. Olivia's father was a director, and he picked up interesting things along the way.

"It-"

"Welcome back, Bone," Manfred Bloor said snidely, not looking pleased to see them.

"What are we, invisible?" muttered Olivia from the corner of her mouth. Unfortunately, Manfred picked it up. He glared at her.

"Watch your mouth, Vertigo," Manfred snapped. "If it weren't the first day, I would have you in detention."

"We'll go now, Manfred sir," Fidelio said quickly, holding Charlie's wrist. He dragged the boy into the hall. Olivia followed them, and the three of them stopped at the corridor.

"Olivia!" said a girl's voice brightly. "I found you!"

"Emma!" cried Olivia, crushing the smaller girl.

The boys looked wryly upon this scene. Emma Tolly emerged from the bear hug, bright pink but quite unscathed. "I just saw you at the bookshop yesterday, Liv."

"You know what they say, yesterday is twenty-four hours ago."

Emma turned to Charlie. In their first year, they were around the same height. Now, Emma was only at Charlie's shoulder. She was forced to look up to look at him in the face.

"Happy Birthday, Charlie," she said, beaming. "I've got something for you too, but I left it in the Music Room, just in case I wouldn't see you today."

"Thanks, Em," Charlie said. He felt his spirit rise. It was brutally materialistic of him, he knew, but at the mention of every gift, he felt more and more cared for. First, the bamboo flute from Fidelio, who promised to teach him for his leaving examinations so he would not flunk, then the Ipod. Now this.

"We should go," Fidelio repeated, tugging Charlie's arm. "C'mon, assembly is going to start."

"Assembly?" Charlie said in surprise. "Why?" They had never had a school-wide assembly in the morning before.

"I'm not sure," Fidelio frowned, "but it's in the newsletter the school sent to us last week. Didn't you get it?"

"His Evil Grandmother probably got to it," remarked Olivia.

The bell rang.

* * *

The school assembled in the dining hall, where the students had their meals. In the sea of blue, green and purple capes, a formidable man in a black cloak stood up and swept his gaze over his students. They immediately fell silent at once.

"Another year has gone," Dr. Bloor said flatly, "but several things have happened in the past few weeks that need to be brought to your attention."

"Wow, that was blunt," Charlie said under his breath. Gabriel Silk, another boy in the Music department, kicked him under the table. It was too late, Dr. Bloor's expression fell neatly on him.

"It is because some of you are _ignorant_ fools which is why I am sacrificing today's curriculum," Dr. Bloor said in a steely voice. He cleared his throat and went on.

"As some of you may know, Bloor's Academy offers places to students who are gifted in music, art or drama. Most of our talented students have gone on to fashion a name for themselves in the world. Dona West is an incredible violinist, and John Low has made remarkable contributions to the art world, as examples.

"However, Bloor's Academy also gives valuable spaces to endowed children, descended from the Red King. These children have remarkable powers which they learn to control, and perhaps put to good use. Bloor's Academy cannot be the only such institution in the world obviously.

Manhattan Academy for the Endowed is another such place – or perhaps Mademoiselle's Academy in France."

Over at the green table, a boy with spiky yellow hair was tearing his napkin impatiently. "Hurry up, for crying out loud," he muttered, "I'm hungry."

His friend, a dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks, nudged him. "Shh."

"The point is," Dr. Bloor said sternly, as if he had heard Tancred Torsson, "it has come to our attention that people have mysteriously disappeared, or are dying, in the schools housing endowed children."

There was silence for a nanosecond before an uproar began. The handful of endowed children in Bloor's Academy found themselves standing up and backing away from the crowd. Yells of "Oh my freaking gosh" and "You're going to kill us too!" were bouncing off the ancient walls.

Manfred Bloor decided it was time to stand up. He too was one of the endowed, and nobody dared to stand up against him. "SIT DOWN," he bellowed across the din.

Everyone scrambled to their seats, but somehow, all the endowed children continued to stand. They glanced at one another, and then at Dr. Bloor.

Dr. Bloor felt weary as he felt their gazes. It was difficult to manage all of them. Though he knew his duty, he agreed to a certain extent, that these children were going to damn them all.

Billy Raven. Lysander Sage. Tancred Torsson. Gabriel Silk. Emma Tolly. Charlie Bone. Dorcas Loom. Idith Branko. Inez Branko. Joshua Tilpin. Dagbert Endless. Manfred Bloor.

And though nobody knew, for this spirited girl had the sense to keep her head down, Olivia Vertigo.

Another girl stood up slowly. She was from the music table – in fact, she was only a few heads down from Charlie. Nobody had taken much notice of her. She was small and slender, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail and sharp green eyes. Her face was so pale she looked deathly ill. She seemed to understand what the standing people had in common, and stood up also.

"What are you doing?" Charlie said softly in a murmur. She was too far to hear his soft voice, but she turned her head to him all the same.

Dr. Bloor sighed. "Though these… mysterious murders are happening in other countries, we have been foretold that it might start in our school as the term has just begun. We will have extra security around our school. We are told to remind you to keep extra vigilant as well. A note of caution – it is not only the endowed that are being attacked, but everyone. But so far, the eight people who have died are all endowed.

"It is untimely, but let me introduce you to another Red King descendent. Ray is in the Music department, but a talented violinist.

"You are all dismissed to your classes, except for the endowed. Go to the King's Room immediately."

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kukumalu01~

Leave a review please, and tell me what you think.


	2. Da Niente

** Chapter Two: Da Niente **

**_Da Niente - the musical term for 'out of nothing'_**

* * *

The Red King's Room was undoubtedly the oldest and grandest of rooms at Bloor's Academy. The floor was marble, with intricately carved stone table permanently set in the room, filling up any available space. The room was dimly lit with a pale yellow light so that its occupants felt comfortable and drowsy. There was no window.

This meant that Charlie Bone longed to go to the King's Room to take a nap. At the guilty thought, he glanced at Dr. Bloor, who seemed to be in an argument with Dr. Saltweather. The two men were talking quietly at the head of the hall with forceful hand gestures.

Charlie, Gabriel and Billy caught the next wave of children moving towards the common corridor. However, it was disconcerting to see people step aside pointedly to avoid them. Charlie was glad when Gabriel filled the silence.

"I can't imagine a person targeting all the endowed children in the world," Gabriel whispered, trying to mask his unhappiness as a small girl squeaked when his blue music cape brushed hers. The sixteen-year-old boy brushed his brown hair from his worried eyes.

Charlie's face fell at the morbid topic. "Well… not really," he said, reluctantly entering the conversation. "I mean, we don't know the person behind the crime, do we? It could be another bad descendent of the Red King, bent on killing all the good ones."

"I'm not talking about the idea," Gabriel said dismissively. When both Billy and Charlie raised their eyebrows, he quickly back tracked his words. "No – I don't mean that! I was talking about how difficult it is to track schools with endowed children. Nobody really publicizes their school houses endowed kids, do they?"

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "That could be the person's endowment – tracking endowed people down."

His last words were drowned by a frightened squeak. A black rat scampered to the three boys and crawled up the side of Billy's trousers.

"He looks spooked," remarked Charlie.

Billy listened to the frantic squeaking, frowning. "Rembrandt says… there is a strange… sound? He heard strange music this morning."

"If you want to hear strange music, listen to Charlie's trumpet skills," Gabriel muttered under his breath. Charlie heard him and grinned. Gabriel had been his personal tutor for about two weeks in the holidays before Gabriel finally took to wearing earmuffs for their secret sessions. Fidelio, Charlie's usual holiday tutor, was busy with his upcoming concert.

"No-" Billy began, but he was interrupted by a sharp, annoyed voice.

"Boys!" admonished a deep voice. The three of them looked up to see Dr. Bloor's furious face. "Are the three of you purposely being slow? You should be in the King's Room by now."

"Yes sir," the three boys said hurriedly.

"No, you are _naturally_ slow," Dr. Bloor snapped. "You're going to leave Ray behind?"

"Who's Ray?" Charlie said blankly without thinking. The other two groaned inwardly.

"Venesco!" barked Dr. Bloor. "Come here and show Charlie Bone who you are."

A small figure slipped from behind Dr. Bloor. She too was wearing a blue Music cape. She had dark brown hair and deathly pale skin.

"Don't just stand there," Manfred added, walking from behind Dr. Bloor. "Tell them your name."

The girl looked up, bewildered and uncertain. Charlie felt sorry for her – her first day at Bloor's and she was being picked on by Dr. Bloor. "My name is Ray Venesco," she said. Her voice was hoarse.

"Is that all you have to say?" prompted Manfred. It was a friendly question but when it came from Manfred, one had to watch his steps. Ray looked at Charlie, confused.

Charlie shrugged back.

"Yes," Ray replied.

Dr. Bloor watched the exchange of conversation with an exasperated look on his face. "All this fuss for one name," he muttered. He raised his voice. "The King's Room. NOW."

The three boys ran to the door of the King's room at the end of the corridor. Ray ran after them.

"She cannot think on her feet!" growled Dr. Bloor to Manfred. "I knew you had done the job well but that's going too far!"

"Relax, sir," Manfred answered, his icy black eyes staring straight ahead. "I believe Charlie Bone already likes her. He's too thick to take advantage of it."

"This is NOT all about Charlie Bone!" retorted Dr. Bloor, the closest he had ever went to yelling at his son, and walked away brusquely without another word.

* * *

Dr. Bloor opened the door of the Red King's Room. He made it a rule to avoid the room where only the endowed were allowed as much as possible, but he blithely ignored it and walked in anyway. He seemed to be ignoring many rules lately.

He waited for a second for the music students to fill up the empty chairs and nodded curtly to all the children sitting down. Ray hung back at the door, trying not to look upset that Charlie, Gabriel and Billy seemed to have their own seats to claim while she did not. Dr. Bloor waved a hand, motioning for the standing children to take a seat. Not including Manfred and Ray, there were eleven endowed in the room.

"I'll thank you for showing Ray the way to the King's Room," Dr. Bloor said sarcastically to the three boys. He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.

Manfred rolled his eyes and pushed Ray in front. Tancred snickered at her bewildered look behind his pile of books.

"Sit next to Tilpin," Dr. Bloor ordered.

Lysander Sage was about to stand up to drag back the seat for her. He was sitting one seat down from Joshua Tilpin and next to the empty seat. There were many empty seats around the table anyway and from her blank face, she did not know who Tilpin was.

To everyone's surprise, Joshua jumped to his feet instead and pulled out the chair for her. Though he behaved like a gentleman – for once – Lysander noticed his flushed face and his eyes darting nervously to his friends. He did not make eye contact with Ray as she walked around the oblong table and sat down.

"What's up with Joshua?" Charlie thought, frowning. He was not the only one.

Dr. Bloor cleared his throat. "It's not my custom to do this," he said crossly, "but the mayor of the town has urged me to do so." So did Dr. Saltweather, who overheard his quiet declaration to Lucretia, the matron, that he was about to disobey the mayor's orders.

Dorcas Loom raised her hand as if they were in class. "Please sir," she asked, her eyes wide with fear, "is it really true what you said about the endowed students being dead? I heard Zelda Dobinski was one of them-"

"People die," snapped Dr. Bloor, "It is inevitable."

Dorcas felt silent, admonished. Charlie's mind wandered. Zelda Dobinski, dead? He had heard she had progressed to a university of the arts, where other endowed students often graduated from.

He examined the table in front of him. In his mind, the table had always been divided into two – the 'good' side and the 'bad' side. Tancred, Lysander, Gabriel, Billy, him and Emma; and Dorcas, the twins, Joshua, Dagbert on the other. With Manfred on their side, and Olivia on his, the balance had been tilting to the 'good' side's favour.

The presence of Ray could change these odds. If she joined _their _side, the balance will be even. Charlie shuddered. Even when he had the upper hand, trouble always managed to stir up. It would be unwise to strengthen their side. He mentally noted to talk to Cook – she would understand about the change in balance. Cook was endowed too; she was like the peacekeeping force behind the never ending duel of the two sides.

"Charlie Bone, ARE YOU LISTENING?" barked Dr. Bloor.

Charlie gave a start and nodded vehemently. "Yeah."

"As I was saying," Dr. Bloor said coldly. "The headmasters of other schools are in a state over this matter. Investigations conducted by the… the affected schools has lead us to believe that a _student_ has committed these crimes. This means that all of you are under surveillance from now on."

Charlie thought of his friends and enemies. With their powers, each individual was a potential suspect. Even Gabriel Silk, whose endowment allowed him to get a glimpse of a person through their clothes, had strengthened his power so that he could channel these feelings to other people.

Tancred Torsson raised an eyebrow. "_How_ are we under surveillance exactly?" he inquired. "Because I don't want to look over my shoulder everytime I need to go to the bathroom, y'know?"

Billy Raven, still the youngest and most innocent child in the room, widened his eyes as the thought occurred to him. Charlie resisted the urge to break out in laughter. Dagbert Endless gave a snort in disgust.

Dr. Bloor ignored the question. "Manfred here will debrief you on the mode of surveillance." As he turned around and passed through the door, Tancred could not suppress himself.

"But what if I need to answer the call of nature and go to the toilet?" he called, leaning on two legs of his chair.

Dr. Bloor's reply was heard throughout the school. During lunch, many whispers found ears to tell the latest news. "Tancred Torsson has detention on his first day of school."

Manfred looked back at him in disgust. "Put a lid on the crude jokes, Torsson," he said, "you'd want to hear Dr. Saltweather's chosen method of surveillance."

The mention of Dr. Saltweather sobered all of them – they had a huge amount of respect for the Head of Music. He had helped them before.

"What will happen is, each endowed student will be paired with another endowed student. You will follow them everywhere and even classes will be arranged so that you will be in the same class. This will go on for the whole semester until further action will be taken." Manfred recited all this from a piece of paper. "The pairing are as follows and no swapping of partners are allowed.

"Billy Raven and Joshua Tilpin.

"Charlie Bone and Dorcas Loom.

"Gabriel Silk and Inez Branko.

"Idith Branko and Lysander Sage.

"Ray Venesco and Tancred Torsson

"Emma Tolly and Dagbert Endless."

* * *

To everyone's surprise, the first pair to protest was Charlie and Dorcas.

"I'm not pairing with _him_!" Dorcas cried, pointing dramatically at Charlie. "You always land in trouble and Mrs Bone is right, you are a sniveling, horrible-"

"You're always with my great aunts, especially sneaky Aunt Venetia!" shouted Charlie. "If this means that I'm going to be seeing more of them-"

Their voices were drowned from the sudden howl of wild wind. Tancred and Dagbert were on their feet, facing one another.

"You'd better not do anything to Em," Tancred growled, "I haven't forgotten the term before."

"You're still the pathetic weasel from then," Dagbert sneered. "Don't worry, I won't harm your bird-girlfriend. I should say good luck to you, you're going to have your hands full with your partner."

Tancred had no idea who his partner was, but if Dagbert was afraid of her, he was certainly going to be her friend. "Shut up, Endless!"

Emma snatched her bag from the table, as heavy droplets of rain suddenly splattered on the stone table. She glanced from her partner to her friend. "Erm…?"

Ray sat down at the table and watched the fighting pairs, looking mildly interested.

Inez was making Gabriel's life hell already. With a flick of her wrist, she had upturned his whole bag on the wet floor. She sifted her hands through his books and lifted up his music scores.

"I'm going to follow you to listen to _this_ every day?" she shrieked. Her voice, unnaturally high, daunted Gabriel.

"Put it back, Inez," he shouted, with startling fury. "That's my exam piece for the year!"

Inez let the paper fall from her fingertips onto another puddle. "Here you go."

Joshua jumped out of the way as Inez summoned another book to her hands. "History of Mozart?" came another incredulous cry.

Billy looked warily at Joshua, who just smiled back pleasantly. His power of magnetism was working efficiently – Billy could not help himself but smiled back.

They were the only smiling pair in the room.

Finally, Lysander brought control to the room. "STOP IT," he demanded in his most authoritative voice. The noise ceased immediately. Lysander looked, and sounded, a lot like his father, Judge Sage, and Judge Sage had not been appointed to Supreme Court for nothing. "Manfred has gone. I don't care what you do now, but the bell has rung and we have to go to our classes."

"We have to go to our classes with _them_," Gabriel said angrily. The boy never looked so furious before in his life. He took his music very seriously. "We don't know our timetables."

"Actually, I think Dr. Bloor has already done something about that," commented Emma in her quiet way. "Look." She held up her timetable.

They were different from the ones they had been mailed during the holidays. Each pair shared the same timetable, split between the two classes.

Slowly, each pair started to disperse. The first pair out were Billy and Joshua, who seemed to be employing the policy of silence between them. Joshua accidentally summoned Billy's pencil; Billy peeled it off his arm swiftly and silently. It was far from a friendship – the saddest relationship Lysander had ever seen – but it was better than the next pair who came out.

"We're going to Paltry's class," Charlie said, trying to reason with Dorcas. "I switched instruments again – Fidelio gave me a bamboo flute."

"Do I look like I care?" snapped Dorcas. "We're dropping by the art tower first."

"Why? I'm not going to be late because of you."

"Don't flatter yourself, you idiot, I'm grabbing myself a pair of earmuffs."

Lysander groaned inwardly at the exchange of conversation. "At least they're not killing each other," he consoled himself.

The pairs walked out one by one. Emma walked behind Dagbert cautiously and Gabriel gave up on Inez and ran out of the door only to have her run at his heels. Tancred left by himself.

"Ray, you need to follow him," Lysander pointed out.

The girl gathered the fallen books Tancred had left behind, forgotten in his fury. "I'll follow the water."

Lysander glanced at the trail of water droplets. "Fair enough."

As he and his silent partner walked out of the door, he tried not to think of what might happen between now and the time they had to return to the King's Room for homework.

* * *

A/N: So far so good? Leave a review.


	3. Forte

'Your father had a grand piano. It stood in the center of a large, bright room. The only things in the room were the piano and Lyell, your father. Through the long windows there was a view of the lake but your father never looked at it. He gazed at his music while his fingers found the notes. And he would cast his spell.' – Grizelda Bone; Midnight for Charlie Bone (pg 119)

**Chapter Three: Forte**

_**Forte – loud, staring straight at your face**_

* * *

_**In History Class**_

The history teacher was obviously new. He looked like a recent college graduate, dressed non-descript in a black sweater and jeans. "My name is Mr. Woods," he said, waving the class register enthusiastically, "Since it's our first day, I'll seat you in pairs according to your first names. It'll be easier for me to remember you that way."

Emma Tolly glanced at her classmates and did a quick calculation. There were only twenty students in the elective history class. Dorcas ought to have paired Dagbert but since she was forced to join Charlie for his flute lesson, that left Dagbert with –

"Dagbert and Emma," the teacher beamed.

Emma seriously did not want to sit with her partner. It was dangerous enough to be in the same room as him. She was seated at the back, and Dagbert was in the front row. "Please, sir," she began.

"Now, Emma, we're all friends here, aren't we?" Mr. Woods said. Her mind screamed _As If_ but she forced a smile and replied what was expected of her. "Of course."

She gathered her books and walked to the front of the class, her head down. Dagbert was sitting on the left, scrawling something in his notebook. Emma sat down and as subtly as possible, began to shift her chair inches away from him.

"Trying to put a distance between us, Tolly?" Dagbert asked snidely, tearing the paper away from his notebook. Emma froze, her fingers tight on the edge of her seat.

"No, I'm not," Emma replied, trying to soothe her voice so that it was natural. High-pitched squeaks were not natural. She cleared her throat.

"Well," Dagbert said easily, leaning against his chair, "you can run away and ignore me all you want." He dropped his voice. "But you and I are now partners, and this makes it easier for me to get revenge on what your boyfriend did to me."

Emma ignored him and took her pen out of her bag with deliberate slowness. "No, you won't," she found herself saying to the pen. She wrote her name on a paper and frowned when she saw her usual typist penmanship had been reduced to a doctor's scrawl because of her trembling fingers.

_Emma Tolly_. She remembered the strange feeling she had when she first found out her new name. Emma Tolly was another girl to her, a brighter and more confident person. Now _she_ was Emma Tolly. Would Emma Tolly stutter to her pen?

No. She looked up and stared into Dagbert's cold blue-green eyes. "No, you won't harm me," she said in a much stronger voice. "You heard Tancred this morning, Dagbert. If you do anything, my friends would know, and they're _much_ more powerful than you."

Her eyes drew away instinctively from Dagbert's as she heard the sound of paper crumpling in his hands. Despite her words, Dagbert smirked at her and threw the piece of paper onto her pile of books.

Emma looked from the ball of paper to his smirking face. _Why doesn't he look afraid?_ What she had said was real – she believed that her friends would give Dagbert a taste of his own medicine if he tried anything funny. Disconcerted, she reached out for the piece of paper and unfolded it.

_Revenge is in its subtlety, and your thick friends wouldn't notice it until it's too late. I have better friends and yours will pay for what the stormbringer did to me._

Emma stared at the words, trying not to let fear show on her face.

"I know you're scared, Tolly," came the sneer she would grow accustomed to in the weeks to come. "You can't hide anything. You're _such_ a simpleton."

"Shut up Endless," she whispered, unconsciously echoing Tancred's words.

Dagbert turned back to the front and started playing with his pen. In a space of a few seconds, he had morphed from a threat to an ordinary schoolboy. Though she did not know why, Emma felt even more scared. This was a boy with many names, and with those names, many different sides. What could a bird kid do next to a drowner? _Nothing._

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Dagbert said softly.

* * *

_**In the Music Room; Winds**_

Mr. Paltry's face was as red as a beetroot. Charlie, who had seen this face a million times, did not feel too threatened, but he stepped back all the same. "What do you mean you don't know how to play the flute?" he thundered. "Your graduation examination is in 15 months, boy, and you're learning this instrument for the FIRST TIME?"

Charlie was thinking how his teacher's voice had a crescendo to it nearing to the end, but it was obviously not the wisest thing to say.

"I just got the bamboo flute as a birthday present today, sir," Charlie repeated for the umpteenth time. "It was Fidelio's gift, sir, and he promised to teach me. Dr. Saltweather saw it too, and thought it'd be good if I learnt to play it this year.

Dorcas, who was sitting in the shadows by the door, stopped her knitting. "He sounded terrible, sir," she offered unhelpfully, smirking at Charlie's furious face. "He was trying to tune it when I went to the art room to get this." She waved her earmuffs. "It was awful."

"You can't have heard it," Charlie argued. "Dorcas is obviously trying to make me look bad, sir –"

"I don't need her to tell me what I know," snapped Mr. Paltry. He rapped Charlie's fingers hard with a rolled up sheet music. "If you can't play the bamboo flute properly – and I might remind you that this is your fourth instrument – I'm going to hold you back every Saturday for extra practice. God knows you need it."

"W-what?" Extra lessons with Mr. Paltry? He would rather die.

And apparently, so did Dorcas. "He can't!" exclaimed Dorcas. "If he does, I would have to too! I can't!" Her argument was quite pathetic and she would never make a lawyer. Charlie chose to keep this thought to himself too.

"Please sir-" Dorcas and Charlie said at the same time. Then, the door opened.

_Slammed_ open, actually. Dorcas shrieked and leaped out of her chair to avoid being hit by the door. A small girl stood by the door with a taller, lanky boy beside her.

Tancred waved at Charlie. "Hi Charlie!" he remarked.

Thoroughly confused, Charlie waved limply back.

"WHAT is it this time!" shouted Mr. Paltry. He turned to look at the newcomers.

Ray Venesco stepped into the room, and to the astonishment of the other three students, dropped into an old-fashioned curtsy. It was very quick but done with the air of being practiced millions of times before.

"Sorry Mr. Paltry," she said quietly, "I left my violin here this morning."

Even more ground-breaking was Mr. Paltry's reaction. He stood up and walked towards the open cupboard. He pulled out a black violin case and handed it to her without a sound. No complaints, no reprimands, no yelling. Nothing.

"Thanks," Ray replied and closed the door behind her. Charlie could her Tancred's voice in the distance, muffled by the closed door; "What was _that_ about?"

Mr. Paltry turned back to Charlie, and he could see the anger flood back into his teacher's face. "Is she your student, sir?" Charlie asked, trying to divert his attention.

"Ray Venesco is under Mr. Pilgrim, Bone," Mr. Paltry snapped. Charlie widened his eyes – the new girl is with his father? "Why did I get _you_, Bone?" he continued resignedly.

"She played for you this morning?" Charlie pressed on. His mind was racing. Was it safe for his father to be with Venesco? Mr. Paltry had seemed to be under a spell in the new girl's presence. It was not normal. He recalled Billy's words about what Rembrandt had said this morning.

"_He heard strange music."_

Mr. Paltry eyed him in distaste. For a second, Charlie was sure that his teacher would not answer him and hit him again with the sheet music. Then, Mr. Paltry walked back to his original position behind the piano and sat down.

"Yes she did, Bone," he said, "and you'll never be as good as she is now, even if you practiced for a million years." He whacked Charlie's head with the sheet music. "Now, what are you waiting for, boy? Christmas? PLAY."

Charlie flushed and turned around to look at the door one last time, as if expecting Ray to barge in again. Then he noticed Dorcas's face. She was leaning forwards, listening to Mr. Paltry's voice as intently as he had. Her face had a troubled look on it.

Charlie felt his head spinning; he was having the weirdest birthday in his life. The unexplained news of endowed people dying, the jumpy children (first Joshua, now Dorcas), the apparently random partners and this strange girl who seemed to bespell Mr. Paltry was making him uncomfortable.

"CHARLIE BONE –"

"Yes sir," Charlie said hurriedly and put his flute to his lips.

* * *

_**In the drama theatre**_

Billy and Joshua sat in the audience alongside the rest if the backstage crew. Ms Marlowe, the drama teacher, stood on the stage and called out the chosen actors for the spring musical. She was going through the list in alphabetical order.

"…and finally, Olivia Vertigo," she finished. Olivia stood up from the front row and leaped gracefully up the steps to the stage with the ten-odd plus players. She was wearing a bright pink wig.

"Look at the freak," said Joshua under his breath. It was the first words he had said since the Red King's room. Billy, who was sitting next to him, frowned to himself at the spite in his voice.

Olivia was Charlie's friend, and since he, Billy, was on Charlie's side, Olivia became his friend by default too. Billy had changed sides many times in the past but he matured, and sworn last year along with the others, after Tancred's entanglement with Dagbert, to always be a unit. The way this unit had been split up callously and partnered with the other endowed children made him suspicious.

"I'm sure you're all excited to hear what the spring production is all about," Ms Marlowe said. She paused, allowing the loud applause from the forty-student strong audience to erupt. "It is an original production written in joint-partnership by Fidelio Gunn, from the music department, and our very own Olivia Vertigo."

A group of powdered-face girls with different coloured wigs cheered at Olivia's name. Olivia beamed at them. "This means that Olivia would be our director for the production. I hope you will follow her instructions without any fuss." She passed the microphone to Olivia.

Joshua stood up abruptly. Since he was in the back row, shadowed in darkness, Ms Marlowe did not notice him. Billy leaned forwards, wanting to hear what Olivia was going to say. He knew how excited she was during the holidays about the musical. Suddenly, he felt a powerful tug at his arm. He stifled a cry of pain and turned around. Joshua was at the exit, beckoning him.

Billy tried to ignore him but the invisible tug became too powerful to bear in the end. He slipped off his seat and hurried to Joshua.

"Come on," Joshua said shortly and pushed open the door.

"What are you doing?" Billy asked, following him. The corridor was dimly lit, leading to another place in the drama building. Billy shivered, He had never liked the drama building with its unexpected costumes and discarded props scattered all over its numerous rooms.

"Do you think I'm going to listen to that freak?" hissed Joshua.

"Olivia is not a freak. She's just the director and we're just the backstage crew." Billy tried to paint the picture black and white. "We just have to follow her instructions."

"No. I have a better idea."

* * *

_**In the Music Tower**_

Lyell Bone sat in front of the grand piano in the comfort of the darkness in the attic of the west wing. His long fingers touched the black keys and he wondered for the millionth time why he was still in Bloor's Academy.

He still went by the persona 'Mr. Pilgrim' eventhough he had reclaimed back his life. He had been hypnotized by Manfred Bloor when Charlie was two years old. Charlie had eventually found his father's cover identity and with the Red King's help, shook him awake from his eight year slumber.

After taking a two-month vacation with his wife, Amy, he decided to return back to Bloor's Academy. In return for his silence on the matter, he was ignored by and large by the staff, and he liked it that way.

Besides, he had a few students still on his mind. Gabriel Silk was his most promising student in the years he had been at Bloor's. Lyell _had_ listened to Charlie blunder through a Bach fugue once. Lyell had raised his eyebrows, unable to convey the… _despair_ he felt at the terrible sound produced by his piano. He had looked at Gabriel to see his reaction, to take his cue, but Gabriel was wearing earmuffs and smiled peacefully in his direction.

He raised his head when there was a rapid knock on the door. Lyell glanced quickly at the room; it was dark as usual, but the burning torch at the entrance of the door provided just enough like to see. "Come in."

The door creaked open. The first thing that happened was a wild gust of wind blew through the room. The torch was extinguished immediately, and a guilty voice spoke up. "Sorry about that, Mr. Bone- er- Mr. Pilgrim," Tancred said, his cape flying in non-existent wind.

Lyell looked slightly taken back. "Ah…" he said, the unsaid sentence hanging in the air. Tancred quickly turned around and pushed another figure into the room. The figure gripped the doorframe stubbornly. "Get in, Venesco," he said, rolling his eyes, "I did not climb ten flights of stairs for you to _stand_ there."

The fingers immediately let go and Lyell had a fleeting memory of Dorothy Bloor lingering dreamily outside his room, with her broken hand on the doorframe, eagerly leaning in.

"Venesco?" Lyell said, looking at the newcomer. His eyes hardened for a second. He had heard the name before. "Are you a new student?"

Ray nodded. Lyell looked up at Tancred, who looked awkward standing at the door. He wanted to lean against the door for the lack of anything to do, but it would be rude in front of Charlie's dad. He settled for standing with his arms in his pockets, looking anywhere but the piano.

Tancred and pianos do not mix. His temperamental and impatient nature had made up his mind that sitting down and looking at pieces of thin paper which were bound to fly off anyway was not a great use to him. If there was a Hopeless-Musicians-Club (HMC), Charlie and Tancred would win presidency and vice-presidency hands down.

Lyell glanced at his watch. In the years before, he hardly acknowledged the concept of time but now he at least could tell when to go down for lunch. The first lesson had passed by already, all the children should be taking their morning runs around the garden. _That_ period was going to be over soon anyway. They might as well have their lesson now.

Lyell gestured towards the piano bench but Ray shook her head. "He's here for the lesson too," she said, pointing her thumb behind her shoulder. "Can he play first?"

Tancred had obviously not revealed to her his membership of the HMC. Lyell had.

"It's okay Venesco," he said, "you can play first."

"I brought my violin," Ray said, gesturing to Tancred again. Tancred was carrying the violin case, looking surprisingly at ease with it.

Lyell looked at Ray in surprise. "Didn't Tancred tell you? I teach piano."

"Oh. Uhmm…" Ray turned around and looked at Tancred in a confused manner. He had only been with her for thirty minutes, and he was already familiar with the look. As always, Tancred shrugged back. He felt slightly guilty for not telling her that Mr. Pilgrim taught piano exclusively. It's just that... Mr Pilgrim never taught anything else. It was such a common fact that Tancred never really bothered to tell it to Ray.

"Dr. Saltweather teaches orchestra music," Lyell continued. He stopped when he noticed Ray's face. She had forgotten his existence already. He knew that face - that face of oblivious and fierce passion. He had worn it many times too.

Ray touched the black and white keys slowly. With not much as a sheet music in front of her, she began to play.

She cast her spell.


	4. Estinto

**Chapter Four: Estinto**

_**Estinto; the musical term for 'lifeless', synonymous with 'Venesco'**__**

* * *

**_

**Still morning…**

**At the staircase to the Music tower**

"Where are we going, Silk?" complained the doll-faced girl. "I've been walking for ages and ages and we're still not there!"

Gabriel kept his mouth tightly shut. He definitely knew what it was like to be his father now when the family when for car trips. "We'll get there when we get there!"

"That's what I'm asking, moron! Where is there?" Inez whined.

Gabriel stopped and looked around with a funny look on his face. "Why are you talking so much all of a sudden?" he asked. If he knew its origins, perhaps he could make her silent again. Inez Branko was creepy when she was silent, but she was five hundred percent more annoying when she was talkative.

Inez looked up, her eyes blank. It was the expression he had grown accustomed to throughout the years and in some bizarre way, comforted him to know it was still the same twin. Then, he had goosebumps. He was alone on the staircase with an angry telekinetic teenage girl who had seemed to have undergone a personality change over the holidays. That was not good.

"When I am with Idith," she said suddenly, "I don't have to say anything."

Then, she felt silent again and stared at him with her unnerving expressionless eyes. Gabriel started to think quickly about Mozart, his music, Mr. Pilgrim, his piano – anything that would take his mind off the horror movies he had seen during the holidays.

"But that's because she's smart, and you're not, so get over the fact, LOSER," she burst out, and stormed up the steps. All musical terms flew out of Gabriel's mind as he stared incredulously at Inez. His mind tried to find an explanation – any explanation – to explain her bizarre behaviour.

"Girls," he decided in the end. He sighed, and made a mental note to ask Emma on her opinion. It was going to be a long semester with Inez Branko.

* * *

**In the Music Tower**

Dreams are but fickle figments of reality and imagination combined. Sometimes it could be surreal; you chasing a butterfly, or perhaps a clock flying in true Salvador Dali style. Most of the time, dreams are another of our mind's cruel tricks. They conjure memories long gone or deeply buried.

There is always a reason why these memories are buried, why these dreams turn into nightmares.

The flood of water, an element so familiar to him, was beginning to overwhelm as he stood on the edge of panic. Vaguely supported by two stone objects – what were they? He could not remember – the water level inched higher to his chest. How he struggled to wake up from this groggy sleep!

The water slowly rippled past his chin. The way he had coughed violently in the water as the liquid flowed through his nose and gaping mouth…

Like all dreams, the order of memories did not make sense. The direction of his thoughts changed abruptly to the forest by the ruins of Bloor's Academy.

The night sky was velvety black with the moon playing peek-a-boo from behind the thin cotton layer of grey clouds. Fluorescent lights shone from the heart of the forest, a sliver of light touching his hand. He walked further to see a boy around his age, with dark greenish-brown hair like seaweed and a man who looked a lot like him…

"Tancred!" shouted another voice. It was deeper, more mature, with an edge of panic and concern. Was this part of the dream too? "Wake up, Tancred!"

Suddenly, the storm-bringer heard a chord, so out of tune that it was ear-splitting. It sounded like a person had screwed up the strings in the piano, and then proceeded to bang the keys with a sledgehammer at full volume.

_Bang, bang, BANG!_

The chord changed irregularly, slammed again and again until he could not stand it any longer. The dream dissolved as quickly as it came, and Tancred Torsson opened his eyes with a start.

Almost immediately, a man's face came into focus. Lyell peered worriedly at Tancred's spaced-out look.

"Tancred? Are you with me?" Lyell snapped his long pianist fingers into Tancred's face. The sound, like gunshot, failed to stir any reaction.

Lyell grew pale.

_Damn. What happened?_

Lyell had a pretty good idea who did it.

"Venesco," Lyell said slowly. He did not turn around, not wanting to be provoking; if Ray Venesco really was to make Tancred collapse, what could he, an unendowed person, do against her? "Venesco, what happened?"

"…"

Lyell turned around.

Ray was lying on the ground, out cold.

Just when matters could not get any more worse, or so Lyell believed, the sound of footsteps could be heard.

_Found with two unconscious students…_

The reaction was just as he expected.

Inez Branko screamed.

"What is it, Inez?" Gabriel's voice floated into the room, clearly annoyed. "Too dark for you? Never seen a cobweb in your life-"

Gabriel Silk stopped short at the top of the stair, absorbing everything in the dark room beyond the open door.

Lyell Bone stood up from his kneeling position in front of Tancred. He looked down formidably at Inez, who immediately stopped screaming. He looked like the old Mr. Pilgrim – dark, hostile and perfectly capable of harming two students under his care.

"Mr. Pilgrim-" began Gabriel. Lyell turned to Gabriel. The words he was about to say – _what happened?_ – died in his throat. There was something unreadable in Lyell's face. From all the years of having him as a teacher, Gabriel thought he had pretty much figured all of his body language.

But this was Lyell Bone. Mr. Pilgrim did not exist anymore.

Gabriel started again. "Mr. Pilgrim," he said seriously, "I'll help Tancred to the matron."

Understanding flooded Lyell's face.

"Yes."

* * *

**In the sick bay**

Lucretia Yewbeam was the matron at Bloor's Academy. Fidelio's exact words describing her were 'the closest thing a woman could get to a dragon'. She was old, with snow white hair hastily pulled up into a bun and wrinkled skin on her long, thin frame. She was unforgiving, unsympathetic and had a vehement repulsion for children.

She was also Lyell's aunt.

When she saw him carrying Ray into her wing, with Gabriel struggling to support Tancred, who was both taller and bigger than him, and Inez following them reluctantly with fear still in her face, Lucretia screamed.

"What are you doing with _her_?" Lucretia screeched. Lyell said nothing – he had never held a conversation with her after he… woke, and he was not planning to start. Lyell carefully put her down onto the nearest bed and turned away to leave.

Lucretia took another quick look at Ray's white face, then at Tancred's pale one, and quickly caught up with Lyell. She pulled him into her office, just a door away from the sick bay.

There was a strained silence for a while. Lucretia had plenty of words to say to her nephew, but they were just casual insults. It was not appropriate.

"L- _Bone_," Lucretia spat, unable to say his name. "Do you have any idea who that girl is?"

She had to look up to meet his eyes. The physical difference between their builds was painfully obvious. Lyell had to stoop down so that his head would not touch the swinging light hanging from the ceiling. He radiated youth, while her age was showing all too clearly.

He was also very shrewd now, unlike himself in the ten years she had seen him. "She is a _Venesco_," he answered quietly, "and I don't know what you and the Bloors were thinking, letting her into the school."

"She is the answer to all our problems!" Lucretia cried. "_You_!" She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at him. "She has a very powerful endowment of reaching into other people's souls and tampering with it, so that it bends under her will. From the Torsson boy's face, I would think she had tried to look into his mind. About time too, that Endless boy was badgering Ezekiel for a very long time about his father's death."

Lyell stepped back in shock. He bumped into her wooden table. His jaw had dropped in horror. "W-what?"

Lucretia seemed to grow in his fear. The tension in her face relaxed as she laughed maniacally. "You didn't know, did you? Eustacia found her when she had one of her inklings abroad, and introduced her to Manfred."

"Manfred…" Manfred Bloor, Bloor's Academy's resident hypnotist was being very active. Suddenly, everything fell into place, just like a jigsaw puzzle with every piece fitting snugly in the frame.

Eustacia Yewbeam – _damn her_ – found Ray Venesco abroad, presumably at Loth's Academy, the school she was visiting as per Ezekiel Bloor's orders. Lyell Bone had heard the name 'Venesco' quite frequently in his early adulthood, and once of twice in this decade. Its name chilled those knowledgeable to the bone, as did the mention of a war to its victims.

Marek Venesco was a brutally powerful man, dominating Italy's underworld empire. He was a business man nearing his forties, and had an uncanny knack of making sure that his enemies ended up dead, or with their memories lost, without leaving behind any evidence.

Marek and Ezekiel had met once and made a business deal together; once Ezekiel had his daughter-in-law's fortune, he would pay Marek back with a generous interest if Marek 'took care' of some people for him.

During the rare family dinners about one and a half decades ago, the name 'Marek Venesco' was mentioned frequently. The Yewbeam sisters would always exclaim about the recent death of so-and-so and laugh mirthlessly over it. Who was to hear them other than innocent, unendowed Lyell and that sulky, useless man Paton?

Therefore, Lyell had learnt that Marek had a terrible endowment of ripping out people's souls, and by doing so causing them to mysteriously disappear or keel over dead.

After a while, Marek realized that Ezekiel was not paying up. After demanding an explanation and only receiving a vague "soon", Marek had tried to kill Ezekiel. For some reason or another, his endowment did not work on Ezekiel and backfired on himself. Marek Venesco had crumpled to the ground, having tasted his own medicine.

When Paton learned this, he shrugged and remarked in his usual off-hand voice, "It's obvious, isn't it? Bloor doesn't have a soul."

Lyell secretly agreed with him. The only thing he had failed to know of was the fact that Venesco had a daughter.

Who was now under Ezekiel's command, with no strings attached. Lucretia smiled menacingly at Lyell.

"Wait," Lyell said finally, his voice dry. "What happened to Torsson, then?"

No sooner than the sentence finished, the door of the office jerked open. To Lyell's horror, there stood Manfred Bloor and the headmaster Dr. Bloor himself.

"Surprise," Manfred sneered, with malicious glee. Dr. Bloor's gaze bored into Lyell's face.

"I see Lucretia has told you everything," Dr. Bloor said in a business-like manner, brushing dust off his cloak. "In answer to your question, Bone, Venesco was merely acting under Manfred's orders at Endless's request. She was to tap into Torsson's mind to see whether he has any recollections on Lord Grimwald's death. We hold Torsson fully responsible for it, did you know? Venesco should have killed him."

"And you're telling me this because…" Lyell's voice grew fainter. He clutched the ends of Lucretia's desk until his knuckles turned white.

Dr. Bloor tilted his head as if a thought had occurred to him. He sighed, and turned around, waving his hand at Manfred. "Do what you want, Manfred. Bone has to keep quiet for just a while more until our plan is complete."

Lyell was about to ask "What Plan?" when Manfred distracted him. "With pleasure, sir."

"NO!" Lyell felt the desk and threw the nearest object he could find. The boy knocked away the paperweight effortlessly.

"Look at me, Bone," Manfred said, smiling. "It won't hurt." His coal black eyes glittered.

It took just a heartbeat. Lyell did not have a chance to think. His shoulders sagged slowly, and the horror in his face dulled.

"… Just like old times."

For the third time in his life, Charlie Bone lost his father.

For the second time, he could be losing Tancred Torsson as well.


	5. Affannato

_I'm sorry for stopping the updating. I need reviews, so that I know where the story is going, and what you think. It really helps, even if you just leave a word. REVIEW._

**Chapter Five: Affannato**

_**Affannato – the musical term for 'anguished'**_

* * *

Claerwen was Charlie Bone's moth. She had white wings with silvery tips which gave a faint glow in the darkness.

Unlike the others, though Gabriel practically grew up with gerbils, though it was still unclear whether it was Homer who taught Lysander his first swear word or the other way around, Claerwen had another kind of bond with Charlie.

She was originally a wand which belonged to a Welsh magician until his apprentice, Skarpo, stole it. Charlie had landed into Skarpo's painting with his endowment and took it in hopes of healing his uncle, Paton Yewbeam. Charlie, with the magician's Welsh blood running through his veins, immediately had the wand's allegiance to him. The wand had evolved into a moth when she was forced to escape Manfred's grip.

* * *

That day, Claerwen had felt a very strange pull on her in the late morning. One moment she was hovering near the painting of a stern-looking woman, the next she had plunged to the ground as her wings stayed frozen. She fluttered nervously on the ground before energy returned to her. Perplexed and frightened, she flew straight to the source of this 'magic', dreading that Charlie might be involved in some kind of trouble _again_.

Claerwen found herself in the sick bay, a place she avoided on purpose. It was Lucretia Yewbeam's lair, and that evil woman would do anything to get her hands on the magical moth. She found Gabriel sitting down on the floor next to the bed Tancred was sitting on – Lucretia never had visitor chairs in her sick bay. There was a strained silence in the air that made muffled voices from the office clear.

Suddenly, Claerwen felt her energy drain out of her again. Fluttering quickly in vain hopes of staying in flight, she fell weightlessly onto Gabriel's hand. The boy's face quickly rearranged themselves from melancholy to surprise.

"Claerwen?" Gabriel said, astonished. "What are you doing h–"

Lucretia's office door swung open. Claerwen fluttered her wings in warning again, and Gabriel closed his hand instinctively.

Dr. Bloor swept out of the room first, his black cloak surrounding him like a dark aura. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lucretia," Dr. Bloor said, with his hand firmly on Lyell Bone's shoulder.

"What hospitality? The people who need hospitality are on the beds, not you." Gabriel wanted to burst out. Being Gabriel though, he kept silent.

"You'll report back to me in less than an hour," Dr. Bloor told Manfred. The doctor glanced at the two patients, and leaned in to whisper something to him. His son nodded, and turned to walk to the hospital beds. Lyell turned around for a brief second, following Manfred's footsteps, before following Dr. Bloor.

Gabriel gasped.

* * *

He had recognized the blank look on Lyell's face. It was completely devoid of emotion, except his slightly wide eyes conveyed fear and his hunched shoulders made in plain that he was battling with himself. Gabriel had grown as a pianist under this poker face.

Lyell Bone had been hypnotized again.

"Tancred!" Gabriel started, turning to his nearest friend. "Do you realise–" Gabriel stopped again, his jaw dropping even further.

It was as if the look on Lyell's face had been photocopied, photoshoped to match Tancred's facial features, and pasted on him.

_Oh my God_, Gabriel thought. He suddenly became aware that he was trapped in the sick bay with Lucretia, his brooding partner, an hypnotized friend. Though the moth sensed his sudden fear and grew warm to comfort him, it did not stop his heart from beating twice as fast.

"Silk!" barked Manfred, giving him a hostile glance. Gabriel sat up straight and looked away from Manfred's hypnotizing gaze.

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop idling here! You are supposed to be in class!" Gabriel paled, and glanced at his watch.

"Erm, no sir, it's lunch hour now. I came to visit Tancred. I heard he's not well." Gabriel gave a side-long glance at his friend.

Tancred was leaning against the bed post with his right hand on his forehead, as if nursing a headache. He did look ill, which made Gabriel panic even more.

"He looks perfectly fine to me," scoffed Manfred. "In my day, boys were a lot tougher. Get out of here, both of you. Inez, go back to the art department. You're both not on partnership for the rest of the day."

"Thank you!" cried Inez. She picked up her bag and ran from the room, her short black hair whipping back in her face. Gabriel had only just started to get up.

"Wait," Manfred said sharply. "What's that in your hand?"

In the darkness of the cage of his hand, Claerwen began to glow slightly. The light from his right hand was unmistakable in the dim light of the room.

Gabriel held out his left hand while slipping his right hand in the pocket of his pants. "There's nothing here, sir."

"Your other hand, Silk!"

Gabriel took his other hand from his pocket, moth-free.

Manfred glared at him suspiciously. Then, he made a 'tch' sound with his tongue and stabbed a finger in the direction of the door. Gabriel sighed, and put his hand on Tancred's shoulder. Tancred raised his head, still eerily silent.

"Let's go."

As soon as they were out of the door, Gabriel pulled Tancred to the pillar and left the door ajar. Manfred's voice was hushed, but still could be heard from outside.

* * *

"Wake up, Venesco! … Good. Now, what did you find?"

"Ray. I forgot about her," Gabriel muttered under his breath.

A groggy voice spoke up, sleep slurring her words. "Nothing."

"I'm losing patience, Venesco, and so is Endless. You were not supposed to leave evidence behind! Now that the Torsson boy is the walking dead, his stupid friends are bound to be suspicious – all because of you! So you'd better give me something I could use _now_."

Gabriel slapped a hand over his mouth when he heard 'walking dead' to stifle a cry. He pressed his ear closer to the door.

There was a still silence. Suddenly, like a power wave, he felt anger radiating from inside the room. It was such a strong emotion that Gabriel unconsciously began to feel slightly furious as well.

"I saw Dagbert drown him a few years ago," the girl answered, an edge of fury to her words.

"Venesco," said Manfred, obviously trying to keep in his temper. He rarely had outbursts these few years, but when he did, Gabriel knew from experience that all hell broke loose. Manfred liked to reserve those outbursts for special occasions.

It looked as though Ray was going to be the guest of honour for this one.

"I want information about Lord Grimwald's death. We need incriminating evidence against Torsson before we begin our plan. We thought you'd have been useful, but you're only feeding us old news!"

Inside, Ray was fuming. She had accidentally lost control of her power, but she was not going to admit it. She was beginning to wake up from Manfred's spell, and her suppressed emotions were coming back in full force. "No death is old news, _è la famiglia omicidi_!"

This was followed by a loud crack of a slap. Gabriel looked away, eventhough he could not see the occupants of the room. He had read enough of his father's thriller books to understand Ray's Italian. _You murderous family_.

"My father was right, you are starting to get out of control," Manfred said, disgusted. "Look at me, Venesco. Look at my eyes."

There was a high-pitched shriek of a frightened girl. Sickened, helpless, Gabriel stepped away from the door. He looked at Tancred, who began to look as though he was going to vomit.

"Tanc?" Gabriel asked hopefully, seeing colour return to his face. He had never been, and probably never will be, as happy as he was then to see a person puke.

"Oh shit," Tancred muttered. "What happened? I need to –" He turned around and ran to the nearest toilet.

Gabriel turned around, and punched his fist into the air. "Yes!" Tancred was back.

Then, the implication of the situation hit him. So many things were happening at once. Manfred had apparently hypnotized Ray, and when she was, Tancred seemed to have been lifted out of his trance.

Why was Tancred targeted? What plan did the Bloors have? What the hell was Ray's endowment that made Manfred hold his temper in check, though he failed in the end?

Sighing, Gabriel put his hand into his pocket, and felt Claerwen brush against his fingers. He calmed down at her touch, and his mind became clearer. As the door of the sick bay opened, he instinctively stepped back into the dark. Manfred marched out as though nothing important had happened. Gabriel waited for a moment before looking into the sick bay curiously.

Ray was sitting on the hospital bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her cheeks were slightly red and wet, but when she looked up at Gabriel's footsteps, her green eyes were wide and confused, as if she had no idea why she was crying.

It was so _wrong_. Something was happening at Bloor's, and it was going to be a calamity if this disaster on the first day of school indicated anything. Gabriel felt his brief happiness fading away completely.

"Come on," Gabriel said slowly, like he would to an injured gerbil. He held out his hand. She stared at him.

"Where?" Hmm. Good question.

"Well, we'll have to get Tancred first. Then we'll find someone who can help you."

Someone who had been hypnotized before, and woke up.

Someone like Emma Tolly.

* * *

A/N: So... how was it? The plot thickens! Leave a review :) I need 5 reviews before the next update, I know you can do it.


	6. Attacca

_A bridge to explain the Bloor's evil plan. The story is beginning to move at last. Obviously, reviews are welcomed._

**Chapter Six: Attacca **

_**Attacca – the musical term for 'a direction to begin (attack) the next movement immediately, without a gap or pause'**_

_**

* * *

**_

"She's not moving anywhere," Lucretia Yewbeam interrupted. She emerged from her office door and placed a bony hand on Ray's shoulder. The girl flinched visibly but she was powerless to do anything.

Before Gabriel could say what was on his mind – _'why not'_ – another voice cut through clearly. "I'm afraid I have to borrow your patient, Ms. Yewbeam," said Dr. Saltweather. He strode into the sick bay as confidently as if he did not purposely avoid it for the last decade or so. Lucretia released her grip on Ray as the head of the Music department beckoned the girl to the door.

"Hold on, Dr. Saltweather. She is under _my_ care now. I won't let her leave so soon," Lucretia said haughtily.

Dr. Saltweather raised an eyebrow. "Why? She seems perfectly fine to me." He glanced at Ray. "Are you?"

"Of course she isn't! She just regained consciousness a few minutes ago; you can't expect her to make decisions just yet–" Lucretia made to hold her arm again. She gasped audibly and looked down. Her fingers were just groping the air. The bed was emptly.

Ray had slid off the bed and stood near Dr. Saltweather's back. Gabriel was directly behind her and obviously two heads taller. In the midst of the sudden turn of events, he still found himself wondering her age. Being partnered with Tancred meant that she was around sixteen too, but she looked twelve at best.

"Thank you, Lucretia," Dr. Saltweather said formally, bending forwards slightly in a subtle bow before walking away as briskly as he came in.

"C'mon, children. Yes, you too, Tancred." Dr. Saltweather nodded towards Tancred, who was lingering outside the door, listening in. "We're all to meet in my office."

"We?" Gabriel asked. "What's going on? Why's everything so…"

"-messed up," Tancred completed.

Dr. Saltweather grimaced. "I'm sure our visitor can explain most of your questions."

"That's good," Gabriel said, relieved. "Then-"

"I'm not sure," Dr. Saltweather intervened, "that you'll like his answers."

* * *

_**Dr. Saltweather's Office**_

They made it to Dr. Saltweather's office in under a minute. It was a small humble room furnished simply with cupboards, a long desk and a couch.

Quite a few people were in the room as well. Charlie was sitting on the couch with Lysander, and Emma was perched on the armchair. All three looked slightly confused as to why they were present. The chair behind the desk swiveled around, and a tall dark man looked at the incoming people gravely.

Ray stepped back instinctively. The man was looking at her like a rare specimen of poison – mildly interesting but something to be disposed of as soon as possible. It was hardly a friendly look.

"I know you," Ray spoke up quietly. "You're Paton Yewbeam."

"I know you too," Paton replied in similar tones, "you're the girl the Bloors want to extinguish the remaining lines of the Red King."

* * *

There was a shocked silence hanging in the air. "That's not true," Ray protested finally, a pink tinge appearing in her cheeks. "I'm not a killer."

"Are you sure?" Paton replied coldly. Charlie looked at the two of them, frowning. His uncle never used that icy tone with anyone, save his sisters and the Bloors.

"Hold up, Uncle Paton," Charlie cut in, standing up. "That's not fair."

"I was reading a few articles in the morning," Paton continued, addressing everyone. He stood up from behind the desk and started pacing around the room. "They were old, fragile parchments about the descendents of one of the Red King's sons. There were a few family descendents detailed in the documents – Torsson's family, Dagbert Endless's family and the Venesco family."

Automatically, everyone's heads turned to either Tancred or Ray. "Don't look at me," Tancred said, holding up his hands.

"I know those documents," Ray said. Gabriel looked quizzically at her. Her green eyes were sharp and alert; unlike the spaced-out look she had before when she was hypnotized. She was talking a lot more now. Could she have escaped Manfred's stare…?

"You can't have," Paton said immediately. "They were under lock and key in…" His voice trailed off, as realization dawned on his face.

"Italy, St. Montano's Mansion, belonged to the church until 1824 when it was taken over by the Venesco Empire," Ray recited, folding her arms. She had a questioning look on her face too; she did not know what Paton was directing at. Dr. Saltweather seemed to be feeling the same way.

"Mr. Yewbeam, what are you getting at…?"

"It was documented that there was an old family feud between the three families at one point in history," Paton continued, clearing his throat. "A Tenneco Torsson had moved into one of Endless's ancestors territories, and the Endless didn't like the way Torsson was controlling their seas."

"Wait a minute…" Tancred said slowly.

"Endless couldn't drown Torsson – it would look too suspicious. So he hired Venesco to get the job done."

"How?" interjected Lysander. Paton looked at the dark boy, and Lysander shrugged. "I'm sorry, but it seems to me like this family feud doesn't involve the rest of us at all."

"Of course it does!" Paton said, raising his voice. His frustration was radiating off him. Charlie had never seen his uncle look so distressed before. "How did you think all of you _happen_ to live in this vicinity and attend Bloor's?"

"It could be a coincidence," began Emma hesitantly, uncomfortable and frightened by Paton's angry tone.

"Nothing is coincidental when it comes to the Red King," Dr. Saltweather cut in smoothly, eyeing Paton. "Calm yourself down, Mr. Yewbeam and explain. I, too, am curious."

"That particular Venesco had the power to suck the life out of people," Paton said in a hard voice, "out of all my research, I have never been so _disgusted_. Venesco wanted it to look inconspicuous so he had all his enemies gather at one place he knew they couldn't refuse – the ruins of the Red King's castle – and killed them all."

Charlie widened his eyes and sat back down with shaky legs. He grew up with malicious aunts, his father disappearing and reappearing before his eyes, his grandmother frozen and his mother hypnotized. He thought he had seen everything, but he had never seen outright war before, especially one tainted with such dark powers. He became slightly sickened.

"His plan was flawed – too many people suspected him. A thorough investigation was carried out as magical families came here to mourn, to use their abilities to reveal what truth they might get. Endless's family migrated far north and Venesco retreated back to Italy. Clairvoyants have predicted for centuries that this threesome war would eventually unearth again, and history may repeat itself."

Paton looked directly into Ray's eyes. "Hey, I didn't _ask_ to be here," she snapped.

"So that's the Bloor's plan!" shouted Gabriel all of a sudden. He sat up straight and brushed his hair off his face, trembling in excitement and realization. "Back in the sick bay, when Tancred was still hypnotized and Ray was out, the Bloors hypnotized Mr. Pilgrim because he was a hindrance to their plans and then Manfred wanted information from Ray."

He said all of this in a rush because it suddenly made perfect sense to him. The Bloors wanted a reenactment of the threesome war so that all _their_ enemies may be eliminated in one go. Simple, and a total disaster.

Gabriel sighed, and leaned back. "Phew, I'm-"

"WHAT?" shouted several voices.

"You were hypnotized?" Lysander asked Tancred skeptically. "Dude, you're quite aware for someone in a trance."

"Oh, Tancred!" Emma cried.

"What information did he want from you?" Paton asked Ray sharply.

Above all the noise, one quiet voice went, "What happened to my Dad?"

* * *

Everyone became silent. Charlie's face looked pinched, as though he was restraining himself from bursting out. Dr. Saltweather moved slightly to the right, blocking his exit through the door. For a naïve, clumsy person, Charlie's eyes narrowed dangerously down at Dr. Saltweather.

Gabriel bit his lip. _Shit_. He cursed himself for his tactlessness. "He was in Matron's office, talking for a long time with her and the Bloors. When he came out, he wasn't… himself. Then Dr. Bloor said something about it being temporary, until his plan was complete."

"Temporary?" repeated Charlie hollowly. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Gabriel winced at his tone, but he knew Charlie deserved some time to get used to the idea. He had spent years perfecting a plan to free his father from hypnosis and it was all gone in one afternoon.

"In order to prevent this _plan_ from coming through," Paton said softly, his anger rapidly fading away at the sight of his grand-nephew, "we have to prevent the trigger for the plan. I'm convinced that it has something to do with Endless, from all the hints Eustacia has been dropping." He looked at Ray. "Don't get yourself hypnotized."

"How did you get yourself un-hypnotized?" noted Tancred. "I mean, you're not dreamy anymore, y'know?"

"Manfred got to me when his family visited when my mother died last month," Ray explained slowly, her gaze and voice lowering after the word 'mother'. "Venetia Yewbeam was made my official guardian in the will left by my Dad. The first thing they wanted me to do was to see whether there was any renewed animosity between Dagbert and Tancred, after their fight last year."

"But you didn't," Gabriel said, thinking hard, "you saw Tancred getting drowned years before."

"Can you don't talk as if I'm not there…?"

"Sorry," Ray said, "so when Manfred tried to hypnotize me again, I was using my power. When I do, other people's power is impervious to me, so I didn't get under his spell."

"You used your power on Claerwen!" exclaimed Gabriel. "That's why she dropped into my hand!"

"Uh huh," Lysander said dryly, obviously not following anything. "What _is_ your power?"

"Controlling people's souls," Paton answered. "Am I right?"

Ray glared at him with hatred. "Yes. Your memories are part of your soul, so I could see yours, Tancred. I suppose the moth has a soul, so she probably felt weak and dropped into your hand."

"The million dollar question," Dr. Saltweather said quietly, "what happens if you take a person's soul away?"

The response was monotone. "You die."

As soon as she ended, there was pounding on the door. All of them looked startled, as if they had forgotten about outside life. "Dr. Saltweather," came the headmaster's voice, "I need to see you for a moment, regarding the 'missing' students who Lucretia said you gave the authority to see. I need to come in."

Everyone, save Dr. Saltweather and Paton Yewbeam, went pale.

"Oh dear," Dr. Saltweather said calmly.


	7. Crescendo

A/N: Manfred's hypnosis on Ray (OC) wears off slowly through chap 4 to 6, like implied in the books. It apparently takes less than an hour for an endowed person (Charlie in Midnight for Charlie Bone) and about a week for an unendowed person (Fidelio was hypnotized in one of the books).

New A/N: _(15/5/10)_ You did understand why Ray is unhypnotised in the first place, right? She used her power on Tancred first in the music room, which broke Manfred's hynosis, but she fell unconscious. So she lost control of her power and used in on the most powerful magical creature in the school other than the endowed, which is Claerwen. When she woke up (which is about the time Manfred tried to hypnotise her), she had to use her powers on Claerwen so she doesn't get hypnotised again. Since she was doing this deliberately, she relinquished her hold on Tancred's soul, which is why he returned back to normal.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Crescendo**

_**Crescendo – and the symphony blasts.**_

* * *

The dingy room turned several degrees colder. The doorknob twisted suddenly, and the door opened an inch. Dr. Saltweather stepped away from the door in surprise as he felt the wooden door scrape against his shirt.

"No!" shouted two people impulsively, ignoring the fact that Dr. Bloor could recognize their voices. An icy wind blasted from nowhere, slamming the door shut with a rattle. Almost immediately, Ray grabbed the shaking doorknob and held it firmly.

"What the-" began Dr. Bloor, before pounding on the door again. His suspicions were confirmed. Dr. Saltweather was doing something behind his back. He looked behind him and caught a passing staff member. "Woods!" he barked. "Get Manfred and Weedon here."

"Ah… Yes, sir," came the startled reply.

Dr. Saltweather leaned against the door. "I'm sorry Dr. Bloor; give me a minute to, ah, make this place presentable." Under his breath, he added, "No need for desperate measures."

"Bloor isn't going to buy that," Paton muttered, from across the room.

Dr. Bloor glared at the door. He was not a stupid man – he had heard a murmur of voices in the room beforehand, including an unusually bright voice. It was crucial to the plans that Ray was to be under his control again.

The headmaster was silently angry. He now knew where Dr. Saltweather's allegiance lay.

Something had to be done about that too.

* * *

Everyone knew Paton Yewbeam was a knowledgeable man, but it was only revealed that afternoon how wide his range of swear words was. He had dropped to his knees, hidden behind the desk, and was feeling the north wall like a blind man.

"Uncle Paton!" cut in Charlie, wide-eyed. "What _are_ you doing? You need to get out of here!"

"_We _are getting out," Paton replied grimly, "the same way I got in."

The north wall of the room was made of bricks and mortar, like the rest of the reconstructed castle. However, the bricks at the foot of the wall were arranged rather haphazardly, with bricks jutting out dangerously. Paton simply gave the entire section a rather forceful push, and part of the wall gave way. Before it touched the ground, Lysander lunged forwards to catch it lest it made a sound.

Paton looked up and gave Lysander an approving nod. "It's nice to know _some_ people here are actually thinking," he said under his breath, before pushing Charlie into the hole.

* * *

Tancred and Ray had to stay, for they were the two 'invalids' in the sick bay just a while ago. Dr. Saltweather had summoned them in the presence of Matron and if they disappeared, Bloor's suspicions would be heightened. Gabriel was the last one at the hole, and hesitated.

"Sir," he began, "Matron saw _me_ too."

Dr. Saltweather shook his head. "No. Unlike them, you're not on the Bloor's hit list."

As Gabriel nodded, and disappeared into the darkness of the hole, Tancred muttered, "Hit list, huh? That's not flattering."

His partner did not look up, preoccupied with the rattling doorknob. She was leaning against the door. "No," she agreed. "It's not."

Dr. Saltweather was busy pulling out files and documents, as if they had been in the middle of some academic discussion. Under the noise of the rustling papers, Ray added, "If I get hypnotized again, don't listen to anything I say or touch anything out of the ordinary. Okay?"

It was the longest thing she had ever said personally to him, so it took a while for him to digest it. "What…?"

Ray glanced quickly at the north wall – the knocked-down portion was still being resealed. She shook her head slightly when Tancred opened his mouth to say more. Tancred frowned, and completed the thought in his head. 'If you do get hypnotized again, you'll play into Bloors' hands. Then the war _will_ start.'

* * *

Soon, there were only three occupants in the room. Dr. Saltweather was about to open the door, when all of a sudden there was a metallic _bang_ on the door. The entire structure shook.

The door splintered as a black axe repeatedly fell onto the weak wood. It was so sudden that Ray had no time to react. She stumbled back as splinters sliced the skin on her face and arms. In a blink of an eye, the doorknob dangled uselessly, held by an inch of wood.

The damaged door swung open easily. Dr. Bloor stepped in first, immediately giving the room a cursory sweep. He quickly assumed a position next to Ray and held her shoulder possessively. The girl flinched.

"Thank you, Weedon," he called over his shoulder. "Go back to chopping the fire wood."

"Yes, sir," the gardener grumbled, and turned around to shuffle down the corridor.

Dr. Bloor looked at Dr. Saltweather in the eye. "I presume you have an explanation for pulling six people out of class," he said coldly.

Dr. Saltweather was not provoked easily. In a respectful voice, he answered, "As Head of a department, I am within my rights."

"_No_, you are not," Dr. Bloor corrected sharply. "Not when they are all endowed students!"

"I don't see why that sets them apart from others during ordinary school hours, Dr. Bloor," Dr. Saltweather replied cordially. "I wished to discuss their school leaving examinations. I talked to the Head of Art and he did not mind me doing it on his behalf."

Dr. Bloor stopped short, surprise registering in his face. Whatever excuse he had expected his colleague to make, it certainly was not this. Tancred struggled to keep his face neutral, as if they indeed discussed their examinations for the past hour.

Then, Manfred chose to come into the room at that moment. He brushed his long hair from his eyes and raised an eyebrow at Dr. Saltweather. "I didn't think you had it in you to do this," he remarked, referring to the way he discreetly set up a meeting. It was pointless denying it, but the doctor preferred the old 'innocent until proven guilty' trick.

"Apparently, he has done nothing wrong," Dr. Bloor said in a disgruntled tone.

"Is that so?" For the first time, Manfred sounded surprised. "Then…" _Why am I here?_

"You will escort Venesco back to her dorm," Dr. Bloor continued. He rubbed his eyes, obviously tired from all the action. "_Take as long as you need_."

Manfred's lips curled up as he understood the meaning behind his words.

Ray widened her eyes.

* * *

_07/05/2010_

_Muse gone. Again. Haizz. I'm a failed author. _


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** Pls reread previous 2 chapters at least if you don't understand what's going on. _

**Chapter 8**

_In the secret passage…_

Like all castles in the medieval era, secret passages were built in each room, leading to a common place where the castle occupants could be led out to safety lest the castle comes under attack. Charlie Bone, if he was taking clearly, would have realised this a long time ago, and made the connection to the secret tunnel in the Onimous's Pet's Café leading to the castle. As it was, Charlie felt like he was lucid in a strange and disorientating nightmare.

He stopped walking three feet into the corridor, which was dimly lit by his great-uncle's torchlight. Gabriel, who was bringing up the rear, bumped into him with a distinct cry. Emma and Lysander turned around instinctively. Over the years, the endowed students had become finely tuned to each other. It only took one look at Charlie's face to get Emma rushing back to him, her face set in anxiety. "Oh Charlie," Emma said, her voice unnaturally loud in the still air. She turned red and lowered her voice. "I'm really sorry about your dad."

"Doesn't matter," Charlie muttered, sounding almost gruff. At fifteen, his voice was beginning to break, and it was unnaturally scary the way he answered – in a deeper, quieter and utterly hopeless voice.

"Of course it does," Lysander said sharply. "Listen, Charlie. This is no different from last year, when Tancred faced Dagbert, or the year before, when we helped Asa, or even in your first year when Emma woke up. It seemed impossible to _us _then, but you thought it would work out, _and it did_. This isn't any different. We've helped your dad before, and we'll help him again." Somewhere during his speech, Lysander had put his hand on Charlie's shoulder, and now he let go. He looked over at Charlie's shoulder to Gabriel, for support.

Gabriel hung back, his right arm absent-mindedly rubbing his left. When he had bumped into Charlie, he had to grab onto the back of Charlie's shirt to steady himself and to prevent Charlie from falling down. The feeling still clouded Gabriel's mind. Charlie had brushed against Gabriel plenty of times, and Gabriel had felt fleeting moments of confusion, excitement and happiness. Never, ever lingering hopelessness.

Gabriel had wondered once or twice what it took for Charlie – their troublemaker, their initiator of plans and their inevitable problem-solver – to snap. It looked like they had found it.

Gabriel looked up and shook his head slowly at Lysander. As if the dark-skinned boy read his thoughts through the emotions flickering in his eyes, Lysander frowned and gave a small nod.

"No," Charlie said, struggling to explain himself, struggling to understand why he felt so certain about his father's demise. "It's… it's…"

Three faces looked at him expectantly. They had grown accustomed to accepting what Charlie had to say as important and the truth.

Charlie, still not thinking straight, groaned in his frustration in his inability to communicate his thoughts. So, he said something infinitely worse.

"We're not going to win this one."

As if Charlie's words were prophetic, a cackling voice exclaimed, "Too right you are, Charlie Bone!"

Paton Yewbeam's flashlight blew out, and the four children were engulfed in darkness.

* * *

_Outside Dr. Saltweather's office…_

Manfred Bloor had to drag his charge by her arm into the hall. Ray Venesco was trying hard to escape his grip, jerking her arm away so forcefully that Manfred was slightly surprised that her shoulder did not get dislocated.

He glanced at the classroom doors on either side of him. Determined to complete his task before throngs of children began parading the corridors, he shook Ray's arm violently. "Stop it!" he commanded forcefully.

Ray looked up at him, her green eyes challenging. To prove his point, Manfred allowed a familiar prickling sensation to tickle the palm of his hand. A moment later, Ray went abruptly still as the sickening smell of burning flesh wafted under her nose.

Manfred kept his hand on her upper left arm for several seconds, until Ray failed to stifle a low moan. He smiled triumphantly. "I'm going to let go," he said. "If you run, I'm going to catch you and you'll get an even worse punishment. Got it?"

Taking silence as a response, he let go of her arm. Immediately, Ray turned. For a split-second, Manfred thought she was going to run. Instead, she pushed up her white sleeve under her blue cape and examined the scarlet handprint on her arm.

"Into my office," Manfred ordered.

It was hard to tell who was angrier. Manfred had been careless in the sick bay and allowed Ray to roam the castle unhypnotised. In the space of one hour, she had probably spilled all her secrets to those blasted endowed kids. He walked tersely, vowing to give the girl a powerful blast of his power so that it never happened again.

Ray, on the other hand, was furious that she was being caught again. She still could not remember most of the previous year, when she had been under Manfred's spell. Half the things that tall Yewbeam man had said was not newsworthy to her – everyone was just gasping at some redundant information about her family that she had known all her life. The last part, about the threesome war – was that what the Bloor's wanted? She did not know; all she knew was that since her mother – if you could call her a mother – died, she had been pulled out of school by some lady in a red coat and taken to different schools to do… things. Ray frowned; she could not remember _what_ things exactly. Bloor's was no different. Why were the other kids so worried?

When the two had reached the office, Manfred unexpectedly shoved the girl onto the bookcase.

Ray hit the wooden rack with a dull thud, and pain in the back of her head exploded. Manfred used one hand to pin her on the bookcase. "It's very easy to forget," he said conversationally, as if he did nothing wrong, "that you are only eleven years old."

It was amusing to see her scowl at him. "I suppose all the big kids' lessons were very tough for you," he said mockingly, "you were paired with… Tancred? He's sixteen years old."

One month was a long time to be someone's prisoner, and Ray had subconsciously learned, even if she could not remember the details, that when Manfred became mocking, it was time to become very afraid. She kept quiet.

"Now, I want you to tell me whatever happened in Dr. Saltweather's office just now." His voice bordered on threatening. "If you're a good girl, I'll let you go unpunished."

There was no time to make up a lie. "Dr. Saltweather called Tancred, the floppy-haired boy and me to his office," Ray said, looking anywhere but Manfred's face. "There were a few kids there already. He talked to us about exams for a while."

"For a while?" Manfred repeated. "Then?"

"He repeated this morning's announcement," Ray said. "He warned us about the endowed being targeted by someone."

"Do they know who this, ah, someone is?"

Ray shook her head. "They were looking at me funny," she said truthfully, "but I think it's because I'm new."

"Go on."

"Then he dismissed the rest… and me and Tancred stayed behind because Dr. Saltweather wanted to know if we were alright. Then _you _came along."

The scathing note in her voice was unmistakable. Manfred did not know whether to be amazed by her boldness or angered by it. Billy Raven had never given him this sort of trouble – then again, Billy had been brought up by the Bloor's for years. Ray did not have that luxury yet.

Manfred decided to keep the punishments going, until she learned to be complacent. He let his hand burn again, until Ray's face fully betrayed her fear, until she started to cry. Then, he began his old routine.

"Look into my eyes, you brat," he said finally. "I have another task for you now. This time, about the other boy…"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, a dark-haired girl was standing in the corridor alone. Her eyes were unfocused, and her pale cheeks were wet. She was clutching her left arm.

Many students passed her, but none of them took notice. It was nearing dinner time, and they could not wait to off load their books. Finally, she followed a random student with a green cape, and walked towards the art dormitory.

* * *

Billy Raven was anxious during dinner. _None_ of his endowed friends were in the hall, except for Olivia. Joshua had ventured far into the drama tower, taking note of a few landmarks for some reason, before pulling out. He stood at the head of the table with his plate, feeling terribly alone, until Fidelio Gunn waved him over.

"Where's Charlie?" Fidelio asked, as the albino slipped into the seat beside him. "It's not like him to be late for meals."

"I don't know. Gabriel isn't here too," Billy replied.

Fidelio had a grim look on his face. "A few of the art students seem to be missing too," he said, pointing towards the table besides them. A few confused looks were exchanged there, as they commented on Emma's, Lysander's and Tancred's absence.

Soon, the whole hall seemed to know about the missing students. It was only when one particularly scrawny boy shouted "The murderer got to them endowed kids!" that the hall broke into chaos.

Dr. Bloor stood up, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "SILENCE!" he roared above the din. "No murderer has gotten anywhere. Who is that fool who yelled that?"

That was enough to silence the students. Dr. Bloor rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "They will be punished later for their tardiness. I don't want any more talking in this hall."

After that, the only sound made was the clatter of forks and spoons against the plates. Fidelio gave a sideways glance at Billy. "Trouble," he mouthed, then reached for his glass of water to cover his movement.

Billy nodded.

Something was very wrong with Bloor's Academy that year.

* * *

**Pls review and give me a reason to continue the story :)**


	9. Chapter 9

'Dad! … It's me, Charlie! … Are you still asleep? You must remember me. I've never stopped thinking of you. Never. Please try and remember. Please say something. Please…' ~ Charlie Bone and the Hidden King, pg 309

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Paton Yewbeam fumbled with the batteries of his flashlight. With a grunt, he jammed the battery back into its slot, and shined the torch. The light fell upon an old man on a wheelchair. The centurion was a frightening image in the dark corridor, with his liver-spotted skull of a face, and a few strands of wispy white hair flopped to one side. There was something mad about him; his eyes were bloodshot and wide, almost popping out of its sockets, and his mouth was set in an insane grin, his dry lips drooping on one side so that drool slobbered down his chin.

Emma put a hand over her mouth, and stepped closer to Charlie.

"Ezekiel Bloor," Paton said, in a mixture of repulsion and surprise. "Rumor has it you've finally died quite a long time ago."

"You would like that, Yewbeam," cackled Ezekiel. From his wheelchair, he peered behind Paton. He flicked out his tongue as he recognized the students. "Smuggling children now, eh?"

"Slight change of plans, children," Paton said, raising his voice. He was still staring at Ezekiel. "It'd be safer to go back to the office now; the others would have been gone already. I'll deal with this."

Gabriel looked anxiously from Paton to Ezekiel. "But –" he began, not wanting to leave Paton alone with the frightening old man.

"Come on," Lysander said quietly, backing away. The African boy could see that something was very wrong with Ezekiel Bloor, as if he was finally losing grasp of his mental faculties. Paton Yewbeam had faced Yolanda Yewbeam and lived to tell the tale; surely an unendowed old man would not pose much of a challenge comparatively. Besides, there were Charlie and Emma, both younger than either he or Gabriel.

At his example, the other children slowly followed him, with Charlie lingering behind for a second. For a moment, his dark eyes met Ezekiel Bloor's unsettling ones. Ezekiel's grin widened, and even more drool dribbled. Charlie tore his gaze away first, and followed Lysander out.

The sound of footsteps soon died away. Ezekiel could not see the passage, for he was sitting around a corner, but he could still see the sliver of light that came and went.

"You're probably wondering how to escape," Ezekiel sneered, and started to turn his wheelchair. He used his frail arms to propel the wheelchair forward. The effort he used caused his whole body, swathed in blankets, to tremble, but Paton would sooner think to throw away a precious book than to lift a finger to help Ezekiel Bloor. "You could join the skeletons in the dungeons."

He set off in another round of high-pitched giggles. He passed the corridor that led to Cook's quarters. Paton followed behind cautiously, and stopped at the corridor.

"But you know, I'm going to let you off today." Ezekiel turned around abruptly. "Get out, Yewbeam, and don't come into the line of my sight again."

Paton frowned. As much as he needed the change of events, he was highly suspicious. Ezekiel never let his prisoners go. "Why?"

It was less of a question, and more of a statement. It was a word that many had uttered when Ezekiel Bloor launched into another malevolent plan. It was a weary statement of fact, that something was happening, or was going to happen, that would inevitably and painfully hurt many.

Ezekiel's screech of happiness echoed eerily in the corridor as he wheeled himself away.

"Payback will come soon. I have the ultimate weapon."

Somewhere in the castle, Ray Venesco sneezed.

* * *

Dr. Saltweather was not in his office when the children returned. Neither was Tancred, nor Ray. A swift glance to the wall clock told them that they had missed lunch, and were going to be late for their next lesson. They scattered in different directions from the office, with an unspoken agreement between them not to talk of the recent events. Emma cast Charlie a worried look before walking steadily to the art room.

The afternoon slowed to a crawl. Emma absent-mindedly answered her classmates' questions about her whereabouts during lunch with a vague, "Teacher's meeting". Eventually, they lost interest in her and went back to their work, which were the costumes for the spring musical.

Emma was thinking of Ray mostly. She did not really think of Ray as a 'bad guy'. Emma had been hypnotized by Manfred before, and knew that it would be futile to resist his hypnotism. As Emma bent her head over the piece of lace she was embroidering on a dress, the only rational plan she had was to somehow get Ray unhypnotised and hide her away from the Bloor's influences.

The Tolly Twelve Bells, even if they found it after all those years, would not work, as there was only a slim chance there were cathedral bells during her hypnotism. The Red King's Tears may work, but the Bloors had doubled up the security around the castle grounds, and something told her that the Red King would object to being used again, like an everyday pick-me-up.

Emma frowned.

* * *

"So did Charlie's uncle get away?" Tancred said, putting his head under his chin, as he watched Lysander sketch his portrait for art class. The two had teamed up immediately, ignoring their classmates, and were quietly working in the corner of the classroom. They filled each other in on the details after Dr. Bloor had tried to force entry into Dr. Saltweather's office.

Lysander frowned. "That's the thing. I don't know. I don't know why Ezekiel Bloor was there either, or what to do with the Venesco girl. Or Charlie. Did you see his face, before he left?"

Tancred nodded. "As if the last _Harry Potter_ book had been sold from the shelves on its opening day."

Lysander's pencil skirted across the paper. "_What_?"

Tancred raised his hands in defense. "Sorry. I think Potter is cool, okay? The lightning-shaped scar? That should be _my_ motif, man."

He reached for an abandoned eraser on the table, and handed it to Lysander, before continuing, "Seriously though, Charlie did look desperate."

"Thanks. For the eraser, I mean." Lysander looked critically at his sketch. There was a zig-zag line at the top of the paper, about where he had drawn Tancred's forehead. "Hmm." Choosing to keep that piece of information to himself, he quickly erased the pencil marks. "Charlie's always been our initiator of plans. I think our job isn't to solve Venesco's problem; not now at least. We need to get Charlie's head back in the game first."

"Get your head back into the game?" Tancred said, grinning. "Quoting _High School Musical_, Sander? You always did have a thing for Zac Efron –"

The look of shock on Lysander's face was priceless. "Tanc! What's gotten into you?"

"Sorry," Tancred said for the second time. He rubbed his eyes, and Lysander suddenly noticed how tired his best friend looked. Inwardly, he berated himself. Of course Tancred was bound to be tired; he had just been knocked unconscious that morning after all. "I get distracted when I'm tired."

Tancred saw the look of understanding pass on Lysander's face. Both teenagers fell quiet for several minutes as Tancred finally assumed a position, resting his head on his arms. Lysander produced a fresh sheet of paper and began sketching him again.

"You know," Tancred said after a while, startling Lysander. "Charlie always said that the reason why he succeeded in getting his father back was because he had never forgotten him. Even when the Enchanter bewitched Mrs. Bone years ago, he stubbornly refused to forget his dad."

Lysander's pencil moved slower. "That's true," he said thoughtfully, tapping the pencil against his chin. "What your point though?"

"It's unlikely Charlie's going to rouse himself out of a depression like _that_. He's been through hell to get Mr. Bone back after all. Maybe we need to remind him why his father is worth saving… again."

Both boys fell silent.

* * *

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